


Nearest to my heart

by writworm42



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Banter, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Living Together, M/M, Rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 13:26:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3730597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writworm42/pseuds/writworm42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Stiles are rained in. Add a power outage to the mix, and they just don't know what to do with themselves. Banter and snuggles ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nearest to my heart

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Buddy Holly's "Dearest"
> 
> a very short, very fluffy drabble inspired by all the rainy weather we've been having lately. Sort of also a warm-up for myself, since I'm p new to writing Sterek! Anyway, hope y'all enjoy! :)

It hasn’t stopped raining in 3 days, and Stiles is getting anxious. After declaring it’s impossible to go outside, he’s been tearing the apartment apart, the clock ticking until he runs out of things to do. Derek, on the other hand, takes the storm much better and stays with his computer, working so intently he barely seems to notice the storm that’s been keeping them home together.

At least, until the electricity goes out.

“Fuck!” Derek shouts, his screen suddenly blinking black along with the rest of the apartment. Stiles, who’s been building a blanket-fort on the other side of the living-room and poutily ignoring his “tough-guy workaholic asshole boyfriend,” as he so delicately put it, stops considering pillow-architecture long enough to give a pointed laugh.

“I _told_ you to get a laptop!” he sneers, and Derek needs to resist the urge to cram a crate of comforters down Stiles’ barrel. Instead, he gets up from his desk, stretches, and grunts for Stiles to get some candles.

“Of course!” Stiles runs in the opposite direction of the kitchen candle-drawer, looping into the bathroom and scooping up a bag from under the sink. “Do you want Frosted Gingerbread, Peach Bellini, or my personal favourite, Winter Candy Appl—“

“I never should have gotten you that Bath & Bodyworks member card.” Derek massages his temples ineffectively against his growing migraine.

“Gotcha, bud,” Stiles nods, running back into the bathroom. “Oahu Coconut Sunset, comin’ right up!”

“I hate you.” Derek groans.

“And yet…” Stiles smirks, coming towards Derek with a putrid green candle in hand and giving him a peck on the cheek.

“Nope. Still hate you.” Derek huffs, hoping Stiles ignores the smile spreading on his face and the fact that his heartbeat, even after months of living together, still quickens when Stiles is around him.

“Sure, buddy,” Stiles laughs, wrapping his free arm around Derek and climbing up on his tip-toes to nestle his head in the crook of Derek’s neck.

Outside, thunder claps from a distance, a breath following before a flash of lighting re-illuminates the whole apartment.

“Five miles away,” Stiles clucks his tongue decidedly. Derek turns around in Stiles’ arms to shoot him a questioning look.

 “You still use that old kids’ trick?” he snorts.

“Uh, if you mean _actual, proven, science_ , then yes, yes I do.”

“There’s no such thing as ‘proven’ science,” Derek rebutts flatly.

“And _that’s_ why I went into nursing.”

“Isn’t nursing a science?”

“Well, yeah, but the doctors don’t know that.” Stiles gives a mock-conspiratorial wink, screwing up his face so spectacularly that Derek just has to laugh, leaning in to kiss the twisted expression right off Stiles’ face.

“Hey! No fair!” Stiles protests, “I was being unattractive!”

“I’ll say.”

“Rude, insolent, and unpatriotic.” Stiles lets go of Derek, turning away and crossing his arms, nearly spilling whatever chemical-laden, probably asthma-causing biohazard the candle he’s still holding is made of in the process.

“And yet…” Derek mimics. Stiles rolls his eyes.

“So, what should we do now?” Stiles puts the candle down onto the coffee table, gliding onto the couch and spreading out so that his arms are stretched across the back, feet up and threatening to leave irremovable smudges for Derek to have to explain to future company.

“Stiles, your feet! Come on!” Derek fusses, waving his hands. Sighing, Stiles straightens up a little, planting his feet firmly on the ground.

“Doesn’t answer my question, dude.”

“Well… What do you want to do?” Derek sits down next to Stiles, leaning over so that his head rests on Stiles’ shoulder.

“Snuggling’s good,” Stiles brings his arm down from its place on the couch and wraps it around Derek, pulling him in a little closer.

“Mm.” Derek nestles into Stile’s neck, leaning up to kiss along his jawline. Stiles responds with a kiss to Derek’s forehead and his other hand in Derek’s hair.

“I love you, Derbear, did you know that?”

“Mm.” Derek brings a hand to rest on Stiles’ knee, thumb absent-mindedly stroking as he returned, “I love you too.”


End file.
